


The Sword

by LaskaSprite



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied Relationships, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaskaSprite/pseuds/LaskaSprite
Summary: Sylvain reflects on his life since the war and his old classmates from the Officer's Academy, but he is interrupted mid-thought when soldiers from Fraldarius territory arrive with shocking news that will change his life forever.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 9





	The Sword

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story based on the ending for Sylvain and Felix in routes other than the Blue Lions. This is sort of an Azure Moon version.
> 
> Marked as spoilers because I used real endings as an influence for the characters.

Sylvain sat back in his chair, staring forwards over his desk. Though he had started to neglect the upkeep of his room, his workspace was cleared and organized. He thought back to his time at Garreg Mach Monastery; he often thought about the times before everything became so… complicated, yet now he found more and more that the details were hard to recall. Dimitri was the King of Faerghus, of course, ruling with his advisor Dedue and his wife Byleth, their old professor. Dimitri. How long had it been since he had called him that without the weight of his high position on his shoulders? Five – no, ten years ago. His time at the Officer’s Academy. It seemed a lifetime back. The King’s wedding four and a half years ago was the last time Sylvain had seen the whole class together. Where were they now? He knew Annette had accepted a teaching position at the Royal School of Sorcery. Mercedes worked as some sort of care person for an independent group that had recently started. Ashe was the head of House Gaspard, since Lonato had no other living relatives. Ingrid had compromised with her father and was married to another noble, but he wasn’t sure who it was, or if she was still able to follow her dream of becoming a knight. He felt ashamed not to know. She was his best friend, after Felix. And that was even worse. He’d only seen Felix once in four years, on official business as Margrave Gautier. They’d barely spoken. He knew nothing of his life. It hurt, but that was the truth of it.

Sylvain was snapped from his thoughts by a messenger. Margrave, you have been requested. He came down from his room and met with a couple of grave-faced soldiers. One of them was holding something. 

“This was to come to you. They said you would understand it.” He said, holding it out. There was something in his tone that seemed… wrong. Grim.

Sylvain recognised the object in his hands immediately. He felt sick, and suddenly months of missed signs came back to him. His duties as Margrave Gautier had left him barely able to engage anywhere beyond his own territory borders, but he still couldn’t believe he could have missed something that big. War on the Faerghus borders. Houses Fraldarius and Gaspard requesting military assistance, his almost complete lack of contact with his friends. But it wasn’t the war that made Sylvain’s heart drop. It was the object, or more specifically the implications of its arrival. Felix’s sword.

Sylvain didn’t sleep that night. He knew the blade as though it were his own. Felix’s best sword, the one he’d used since before the war. There was only one way it could have come to him.

A letter from the King the next day confirmed his worst fears. Felix was dead. They’d been outnumbered on the battlefield, and the Imperial Army was winning. He had led a group in a final stand to regain the area, right to the enemy’s doorstep. Though it won the Kingdom the battle, few survived. Felix wasn’t among those who did. Sylvain tried to process it all. Felix was the one person, more that anyone, that he’d depended on throughout the Officer’s Academy and the war. He came off as cold and harsh, but Sylvain knew him as a caring person, deep down. He could always rely on him. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t bear it. He wondered if the others knew yet.

Two days later, Sylvain travelled to Fraldarius territory. He knew where he was going. He’d been there before, just after the end of the last war. It never crossed his mind that he might have to return so soon. He came to an underground sky-lit hall unlike any back home: stone walls and flooring, with grass and shrubbery growing in well-maintained rectangular beds stretching the whole length of the hall. He knew things were done without hassle or unnecessary embellishment in Fraldarius territory, but he was surprised at the simplicity of the room, given its purpose. Plaques lined the pathway on both sides, with many more on the right than left. Sylvain walked slowly down the path until he reached the end of the left row. He couldn’t bring himself to read the engraving at first. It was evidently new; flawless black save the silver chiselled lettering. He had been expecting to find it, of course. It was the entire reason he came. Knowing didn’t make it any easier, or prevent him from crying any less as he stood in silence and finally read the plaque in front of him.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius  
1163-1190

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the story was alright. I had the idea and had to get it written.


End file.
